Nightswimming
by Ashfae
Summary: Hawke, Anders, Isabela, and Merrill find a cool lake at the end of a long hot day. Mischief follows. Rated M for smut.


Anders could not remember _ever_ having been so hot. They were trekking back from the Bone Pit after a day filled with giant spiders, and all of them were overheated, annoyed, covered in sweat and Maker-only-knew-what-else (bad enough to be faced with a horde of giant spiders, but why did the damn things have to explode upon dying?)...even Hawke, who could normally keep her temper and see the funny side of things, had run out of patience with the day.

The original plan had been to get back to Kirkwall by nightfall, but they were all too bushed to keep going and had flopped down in a clearing near the road to wait for the sun to set, hoping that night air would be easier to walk in. Isabela, who had no shame, had stripped off her tunic entirely and was lying on the grass barechested. Bare nearly everything else, too. If it had been cooler one or another of them would no doubt have commented on it, but no one had the energy. Merrill had looked impressed, though.

"If I melt into a puddle by morning, someone make sure to tell my uncle," Hawke said, one arm flung over her eyes. Next to her, Calen was pancaked on the ground, tongue lolling out. "He'll be delighted to know I came to a sticky end."

"If you turn into a puddle, I think we'll all be too busy making disgusted sounds to think of your uncle," Anders pointed out half-heartedly.

"Hawke would make a lovely puddle!" Merrill protested, indignant.

Hawke flashed her a tired smile, then Anders a longer one. Something small in his stomach uncurled towards it, glowing. Their relationship was still new, barely a week old-_Over three years old_, Hawke had teased, _we just have a thing for extensive foreplay_-but not openly acknowledged to the others yet. He doubted they were fooling anyone, and they certainly had no more hesitation around each other in private, but they were still learning how to be a couple in public. Or perhaps still cherishing the newness of it all.

To him, it was a miracle. Every time he looked at her and remembered, _This incredible, astonishing woman is in love with me_...it didn't matter that she was drenched with sweat and spider-guts and exhaustion, she was still beautiful. Especially when she was smiling at him.

Then again, Anders was a little biased.

The heat had drained him, too. He'd thought himself more used to it-mage robes were usually heavy, and Darktown was sweltering in summer-but he'd shed his robes hours ago, opting to carry them under his arm and wearing only the loose shirt and tighter breeches that he customarily had on beneath them. He leaned back against a tree, watching the others. Hawke, like Isabela, had flung herself down on the ground as though trying to push the heat from herself into the earth. Unlike Isabela, she was still wearing clothes. Pity, that, Anders thought. Not that he could do much about it at the moment even if she hadn't been.

Merrill was sitting cross-legged, and her short black hair was plastered to her skin. Her face was tilted to the sky as though praying for rain. "I miss the mountain," she sighed. "It's cooler there, up in the heights."

"I miss my _ship_," Isabela complained. "There's more wind out on the open sea."

"And if you got too hot, you could always jump in the ocean?" Hawke asked.

"No. Can't swim."

Merrill looked astonished. "You're a pirate! How can you not know how to swim?"

"Kitten, most sailors can't swim. If a pirate is in a position where swimming is required, it means something is very, very wrong. Either your ship is sunk or you've been made to walk the plank. Either way, even if you did know how to swim, you'd be screwed." Isabela groaned. "That said, I think I'd give a year's worth of plunder for some cool water to drown in right now."

"Huh." Hawke sat up, thinking hard. "Merrill, you know this area better than I do. _Is_ there any water near here? I almost remember..."

Realization lit Merrill's face. "Oh, there is! I didn't think! There's a lake near here, if we turn off the path to Kirkwall and head for Sundermount instead, and then cut through a bit of scrub. It's maybe an hour's walk away though."

Hawke still looked thoughtful. "We're not getting back to Kirkwall tonight at this rate anyway, we're all too exhausted, and it's several hours hike from here. If we can get to this lake we might at least have a more comfortable time of it."

Anders wanted to groan at the idea of more walking, but forced himself to his feet. "Might as well. We're short on water; if we're camping out we could use a better spot than this."

Isabela put her tunic back on and gathered together her things. "You don't have to convince me. Let's go."

It was actually a bit less than an hour to the lake, though it felt longer; Anders would have been willing to swear that they were clawing their way through humidity by the time they finally arrived. They knew they were getting close when the mabari yelped and bolted forward; Isabela let out a similar whoop and chased after him, blindly dropping her belongings and shedding her clothes in the process so that she was completely stripped by the time she reached the lakeside and let herself fall face-forward into it. The others hung back a bit to watch.

Isabela emerged again like a mermaid, flinging her head back; spray from her wet hair went everywhere. "That feels _so_ much better," she crowed.

Hawke dropped her pack, smiling bemusedly. "Except that you're covered in mud now," she called. "I'm taking you off of dinner duty, I don't trust you to cook while wearing that stuff."

Isabela walked out of the water, dripping gloriously. She did have mud on her feet and lower legs, and her hands, but somehow one's attention skipped right over those parts to the skin between them. She smirked openly at Hawke and drawled, "I hadn't noticed I was _wearing_ anything."

"Neither had I," Anders muttered with quiet appreciation; he didn't have any interest in Isabela, wouldn't even if things with Hawke weren't as they are, but there was no denying the pirate had a stunning figure. Especially when it was dripping wet.

"Watch it," Hawke murmured, quietly enough that only he could hear.

She was smiling though, and he smiled unashamedly back. "Watch it yourself," he retorted. "It's not me she usually flirts with, after all."

Hawke grinned and shrugged, acknowledging this, and turned her attention back to making something that will resemble dinner. "Calen, go do some hunting, hmm?" she suggested, and the mabari bounced off gleefully in search of game. Isabela pulled a cloth out of somewhere and used it to scrape off mud, then pulled her tunic back on, though she didn't bother with any other accoutrements. Merrill went in search for a source of water entering the lake, to refill their flasks. Anders cleared a small area and gathered together wood for a fire, then set it alight. The group's normal camping routine resumed for a time.

Later, after a meal of wild bird and some roots that Merrill gathered and roasted, Anders lay back in contentment. The air was still warm-none of them were sitting near the fire, which was burning itself out-but they were all far, far more comfortable since the sun went down. The mabari had fallen asleep and wheezed from his resting place at Hawke's feet; she scratched the top of his head absently, her eyes closed and facing the lake, which wafted a pleasant breeze their way. The other two were in positions much like the ones they'd had earlier in the day, but without the same exhaustion.

Abruptly Isabela stood and stripped off her tunic. "Again?" murmured Anders. "You didn't show off enough earlier?"

"I'm a generous girl, I like to share my figure with others," Isabela smirked. "And you all can do as you please, but _I_ am going back in the water for a while."

"I thought you couldn't swim?" Merrill asked, confused.

"Don't need to know how to swim to splash about and cool down." Isabela retorted. "It wasn't very deep."

"Oh." Merrill's face lit up. "Can I come splash about too? I could teach you to swim if you like."

Isabela smiled at her. "Who could turn down an offer like that? Please do, Kitten."

"Hang on and I'll join you," said Hawke, moving to tug her shirt over her head. She paused mid-action, looking at Anders. "You?" she invites.

"I...don't think so," Anders demurred.

Isabela looked astonished. "Three soon-to-be-naked, lithesome women trying to entice you to play in the water with them, and you're _turning it down?_ Men these days have their priorities entirely backwards. But suit yourself." She ran down to the water, long-limbs flashing in the disappearing sunlight. Merrill followed and ducked behind some rocks for a moment, then emerged as a paler streak skipping in Isabela's wake, emitting cheerful nonsense sounds.

"She has a point," Hawke said, pulling off her own shirt.

"She does." Anders shook his head in mock-regret. "Why didn't opportunities like this happen when I was young and lecherous?"

"You're still lecherous, as you've amply demonstrated over the past few days."

"But not young? Thanks so very much." He was only half paying attention, instead watching as Hawke stood and rolled her trousers and sweat-soaked underclothes off. She stretched her arms over her head briefly, letting the breeze touch all that newly-revealed bare skin, and Anders bit back a moan just watching her. Isabela was a sight to behold, Maker yes, but...

Hawke raised an eyebrow and looked down at him. "I can't tempt you?" she teased.

"You always tempt me," he said quietly, smiling up at her. "But it's a risky offer. If you think I can keep from making it blatantly obvious how I feel about you in _these_ circumstances...Andraste's gleaming breasts, woman, I'm only human!"

"No, you're not. I'm sure Justice can keep you well-behaved." She said it flippantly, but he winced at the reminder. She sobered at once and knelt beside him, taking his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have joked about that. But truly, where's the harm? It's only Isabela and Merrill, and they're distracted with swimming lessons anyway, and it really is hot as a dragon's throat out here."

"I'd still prefer to avoid the relentless teasing. Isabela's got the worst 'I know what you're thinking about, and I know exactly how dirty it is' expression..."

"First of all, we're doomed to relentless teasing anyway, we might as well be prepared for it. Second of all, Isabela looks at everyone like that no matter what they're thinking."

Anders smiled. She could always make him smile. How did she do that? "Go swimming, love."

Hawke mock-pouted at him, then turned and ran for the lake. He heard Merrill laughing somewhere, and the sounds of splashing, and his mind presented him with some very vivid mental images of the three of them...somewhere in the background, Justice murmured disapproval. Anders rubbed his head, scowling. His other-self's stern ideas about what was and wasn't appropriate were a real nuisance sometimes.

With the women elsewhere, Anders stripped off everything but his breeches, hoping it would help him cool down, then lay back on the ground. He closed his eyes, clearing his mind as much as he could, and tried to convince his too-hot (in several senses) body to behave itself. He did his best not to pay attention to the sounds coming from the lake: words he couldn't quite make out carried over the water, a lot of laughter and splashing, even a whistle at one point. Those, he could ignore. The image of barechested Hawke with her arms stretched over her head was harder to banish, though he did try. Sort of.

He'd been at it with little success for some time when he heard heavy breathing and felt something pulling on his leg.

Anders opened his eyes and scowled at the mabari, who was gripping Anders' breeches in his teeth. "What do you want?" he asked, crossly. "There's only one person allowed to pull off my clothes, and she's a lot prettier than you are."

His heart skipped as he realized the dog wasn't wagging his tail, was dripping wet as though he'd just run out of the lake, and was in fact tugging rather insistently. "Something's not wrong with Hawke, is it?" Anders asked, going serious and leaning up on his elbows. He couldn't hear any of the others, and suddenly realized it was several minutes since he _had_ heard them.

Calen let go to bark once, then bit and pulled at Anders' breeches once more, then released him to run towards the lake. He turned and barked again, clearly expecting Anders to follow.

Anders scrambled to his feet, beginning to worry. "Hawke?" he called. "Isabela? Merrill?" No response. He jogged down to the lakeside, squinting and trying to see...anything, really. The sun had finally set, but the moon was just a sliver, not providing much light; all he could see was shadows on shadows. "_Hawke!_" Only lapping water answered him.

Swearing under his breath, he waded into the water, summoning fire to his hand in the hope of seeing something. The light created more shadows than anything else, however, swirling gleaming reflections in the lake water. "Hawke? Answer me!"

He was chest-deep when something grabbed his legs, lifting them so that he fell backwards. The fire disappeared as soon as he was distracted, and he only had time to say "Wha_awrk!_" before his head went underwater.

He emerged again almost at once, to the sound of three sets of laughing female voices, and glowered in their direction, even though only Hawke was close enough to see it. "That was _not_ funny."

"Yes it was!" Isabela crowed. "'Aawkrtplth!'"

"It was more of a 'Whaarrrk', I thought," Merrill giggled.

Anders growled and turned to stalk back out of the water, but Hawke caught at his waistband. "You're all wet now," she pointed out sweetly. "You might as well stay in."

"You...did you tell your blighted dog to pretend there was something wrong? Just to get me in the water?"

"Sorry."

"You don't look sorry."

"How can you tell?" Her voice was impish. "It's too dark to see what I look like."

Anders crossed his arms over his chest. "I _know_ you. You're not sorry at all."

"Given that it got you in the water? No, I'm not." She still had a hand on his waistband, under the water, and idly tickled his stomach with one finger.

He was still angry. "Not. Funny."

Isabela rolled her eyes; he didn't even need to see her to know she was doing it. "I sense a lover's quarrel. Come on Merrill, let's leave them to it, those are no fun."

"Lover's quarrel?" Merrill's voice asked, confused. "But that would mean...oh!" She giggled again, and there was the sound of splashing as they moved off.

Hawke stepped closer, enough that he could see her expression, which did look contrite. "I _am_ sorry."

Anders placed his hands on her shoulders. "Don't frighten me like that again. Please. My heart stops when you're in danger."

Her mouth quirked. "You're with the wrong woman then, love. I'm usually in danger. You'll just have to get used to it."

He was finding it hard to stay annoyed given that she was standing safe and naked and dripping and smiling and _naked_ in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, which was the only warning Hawke had before he lunged forward, covered her mouth with his-and used her distraction at the kiss to push them both over into the water.

An interesting bit of underwater grappling followed in the seconds before they emerged into the open air again, by which point Anders had recovered his temper again. "There," he smirked. "Now we're even. I feel better."

"Bastard," Hawke said cheerfully, swatting at his arm. "I was already drenched, though, you didn't really accomplish much."

"Do you really want me to try for more revenge?" he asked, grabbing the hand she'd swatted him with and holding it; his thumb traced a small circle on her wrist. "You know I can be relentless once I've set my mind on something."

"That depends entirely on what you'd consider _revenge_ in this instance," she said, lowering her voice. Under the water, her free hand reached forward and very deliberately brushed against the length of him, which hardened under her touch.

"Minx," he whispered. Her return smirk was a dare, and Anders took it, using his grip on her wrist to pull her towards him so he could take her mouth. She made a satisfied_ mmph_ sound and molded herself against him, twining her other arm around his neck. Her skin was cooled from the water, silk-soft under his hands. His own skin felt on fire, and the contrast was thrilling as he roamed his hands over every inch of her he could find. She hitched one leg up and wrapped it around his upper leg, and he moved his fingers down to grip her thigh as she very deliberately rolled her pelvis against his. "_Minx_," he repeated, voice hoarse with hunger.

Hawke smirked again and shifted her weight in the water as though to wrap her other leg around his waist, but he wasn't having that yet, and instead turned her in his arms, one arm pressing against her upper chest and pulling her back against him while the other roved, caressing her breasts and hips and stomach and inevitably moving back to her breasts. If she was going to tease him, then by the Maker she would learn what the consequences were. She sighed happily in his arms, leaning her head back on his shoulder, and he turned his head to kiss the wet skin below her ear, then kissed her earlobe more slowly. His frantic, wandering hand slowed its movements to match, and he heard her breath catch.

That was a good start. But definitely not enough. Anders nuzzled and nipped at her ear while letting his hand drift even lower, cupping her, one finger just slipping in to tease. His length was hard, trapped between their bodies and constricted by the wet breeches he was still wearing, the cool water doing very little to affect its heat. She let out a small whimper, and he stopped using his arm as a vise and instead covered her mouth with his hand. "Shh," he breathed in her ear between nibbling. "You wouldn't want them to hear you, would you?"

As he said it he plunged his finger inside her and began to work her clit with his thumb, rubbing small circles with light, teasing motions. She did gasp at that, moaning against his hand, the sound muffled but still intensely satisfying. The lake lapped at his arms, at her breasts. He slipped another finger inside, thrusting and swirling and using every little trick of movement he knew, enjoying the difference being in the water made to the experience and exulting in her every shiver and gasp of pleasure.

And then, just as she was approaching the peak, whimpering and trying to bite at the fingers covering her mouth...he stopped.

It took Hawke a moment to realize he'd _stopped_, not until he withdrew his hand completely and let her go. "You complete and utter _bastard!_" she groaned, turning and launching herself at him, attacking with hands and mouth.

"Serves you right," he retorted between almost savage kisses, "for teasing me," she lifted herself up to wrap her legs around his waist, and this time he didn't stop her, this time his hands joined hers in trying to shove his breeches over his hips, then gripped her thighs, the curve of her bottom, helped to guide his shaft into her, "and scaring the-oh, Maker's _breath_..." Anders lost track of what he was saying. After the cool water, her warmth surrounding him was a revelation. "Hawke, love..."

She used his shoulders for leverage and moved herself against him, nearly weightless in the water, all he had to do was stand there and hold her hips, kissing mouth and face and neck and everywhere he could reach while she took the pleasure she wanted, and gave it, until she suddenly clutched at him and went still. She buried a muffled cry in his neck; Anders felt her pulsing around him and continued his own wild thrusting, pushing her body against him, until he fell over the edge with a groan he couldn't suppress. He no longer cared who heard.

They shuddered together in the aftermath, exchanging small kisses and sighs as the bloodrush began to slow. Anders rested his forehead against hers and wondered what in his long, frivolous life of making mistakes and running from them he'd gotten right, for the Maker to bless him with this. "I love you."

Hawke kissed his nose. "I know."

And then, from off to the side, came several slow, determined claps of applause. "Not bad," Isabela's voice called out. "I'll give that a six out of ten, from what I heard."

"Oh, are they already done?" Merrill's voice sounded disappointed. "But mostly all I could hear was splashing!"

Anders groaned again, and this time it was a sound with absolutely no pleasure in it. "Don't you two have anything better to do?" At the same time Hawke retorted, "Six out of ten? That's it?"

"You need more practice!" Isabela called back.

Hawke laughed. "You heard the woman," she teased, slipping her arms around his neck.

"She'd better not lurk outside the bedroom and score us every time." Anders moved his hands from her hips to her back, stroking possessively along her spine. "That, I won't put up with."

"It's not a problem." She kissed him briefly. "If she does, we can just switch to having sex in the kitchen."

Anders chuckled. "Or in the cellar. No one would overhear us from there."

"Oh, good choice, next to all those wine barrels. Remind me to keep a spare mattress and some goblets down there for emergency use."

Anders' laughter rang out over the water.


End file.
